Beaten
by DeanWinchesterPercyJackson
Summary: Dick has been missing for seven years and everyone thinks he betrayed them. Well...everyone meaning Wally. With no evidence as to why Dick left and if he's ever coming back, The Justice League have no choice but to declare him a traitor. So when Poison Ivy shows up with a bloody crowbar, claiming Dick is in danger, no one is one hundred percent sure what to think. (Crappy sum.)
1. Correct chapter one

Chapter one

 **Mount Justice**

 **4:14PM**

"Nightwing would _never_ betray us!" Robin - AKA Timothy "Tim" Drake screamed in the face of Kid Flash - Wally West. "He'd sooner take his own life!"

"I agree with Robin, Kid," Kaldur said, frowning at the speedster while placing a restraining hand on Robin's shoulder. "I do have doubt that Nightwing would so suddenly turn against us."

Wally growled softly, though he himself was having trouble believing it as well. Forcing himself to take a slow breath, he crossed his arms over his chest and tried to speak calmly and rationally.

Until he remembered who had taught him to do so. Shaking away the memories of his former best friend, Wally spoke.

"Okay," he began. "Let's say Nightwing didn't betray us."

"He didn't," Robin growled, making to move forward, though Kaldur's hand stopped him. Wally decided to ignore the interruption and continue on like it hadn't happened.

"If Nightwing didn't betray us, then where is he? Where has he been for the past seven years? Remember, he vanished without leaving a trace behind or telling Batman, Robin, Red Hood, myself, Roy, Agent A-"

"He's done it before," Robin said very quietly. This served to shut Wally up, because something about the way Tim had said it had sent warning signals through Wally's brain.

"He has?" M'gann asked, finally feeling it safe to take a small step away from Connor's side and closer to the most recent Robin.

Robin took a small breath and looked around. "Let's talk where there aren't cameras. I don't want the Justice League listening to this."

"Why?" Wally asked as the group followed Robin into the medbay. Robin took a slow breath before turning to face everyone and explain.

"Because they still haven't forgiven him for it," Robin answered quietly. "He was sixteen. Just barely at least. He and Batman...Batman had always fought with Red Hood, mostly because of Nightwing. I'd never seen Bats and Wing fight each other before in my life. It was...Batman broke Nightwing's wrist and probably would have killed him if he didn't have such high morals and if Nightwing hadn't pulled a vanishing act."

M'gann gasped loudly and clung to Connor's arm, though she continued to listen to the story.

"Bats would never go that far," Wally said with a scoff. "He doesn't have it in him."

"That's what I thought to," Robin whispered before shaking his head. "Either way, Nightwing disappeared after that. When he came back, he was Nightwing. But he was...different. He took charge and didn't let others tell him what to do. He's almost-"

"A mini Batman," Artemis supplied. "Honestly, it's a little scary."

"What I'm saying is," Robin began, drawing attention back to himself. "If Nightwing doesn't want to be found, he won't be."

* * *

 **Unknown location**

 **1:58AM**

Dick curled in on himself and gasped shallowly, gazing at the person above him through hazy, half-lidded eyes. When the man lifted the crowbar over his head once more, Dick let out a pitiful whimper.

Laughing softly, Dick's captor tossed the crowbar off to the side and knelt in front of the once named Nightwing. He reached towards Dick, causing the broken man to violently flinch backwards, thus agitating his far too numerous injuries.

The captor chuckled as he gently reached forward again and wiped away the tears that were falling down Dick's face, drawing a path through the blood, dirt, and sweat.

"And to think," the captor crooned, standing once more and walking over to pick up the crowbar, letting it scrap loudly against the concrete floor. "All it took to bring you to your knees - so to speak - was a simple crowbar. How I ever saw apprentice potential in you, I will never understand."

A long time before, Dick would have growled and spat obscenities at the man known as Slade Wilson. Now though, he remained on his side with his head bowed, hair obscuring his eyes. Slade chuckled darkly as he turned to leave the cell, stopping in the doorway and turning back around to face his broken prisoner. He tossed the crowbar off to the side, grinning when Dick flinched at the loud echo.

"Oh, and one last thing," he said, waiting until he was sure the boy was still listening. "Happy birthday, Richard."

"Did you put the stickers back on his temples?" Psimon asked as Slade left the dungeons. The mercenary sighed and rolled his eyes.

"No, I didn't. But he's far too out of it to even think about trying to contact his friends."

"I'd rather be safe than sorry," Psimon growled. "I'm going to get Poison Ivy and some of Scarecrow's toxin."

"It's his birthday, Simon," Slade drawled, smirking under his mask and watching Psimon walk towards the greenhouse. "Why not leave him be?"

Psimon didn't answer and Slade hadn't expected him to. Shaking his head, the mercenary turned and continued back towards his room.

"Sooner or later, he'll give in," he grumbled. "Granted, his voice is pretty much shot, but I don't need an apprentice who can talk. Sooner or later, Richard Grayson, you'll be my little Renegade."

* * *

Dick flinched and whimpered quietly when he heard footsteps moving towards him.

 _No, please no._ He begged, squeezing his eyes closed tightly as he began to cry. _Please, God, make him stop!_

"He won't stop," Psimon said as he walked into the cell followed closely by Poison Ivy. For a brief moment, Dick thought he saw regret and something close to sorrow in her eyes, though his attention was pulled back to Psimon when the telepath crouched down and stuck the "stickers" on both of Dick's temples.

These weren't just little kid happy go lucky stickers. No, they invaded Dick;s unconsciouss mind and thoughts and directly connected him to Psimon. If Dick had even a fleeting thought - unconscious or not - about contact his thoughts, Psimon would send a wave of agony through the boy's body.

The telepath went on as he got to his feet and beckoned Poison Ivy closer. "Slade Wilson doesn't stop until he gets what he wants."

Dick licked his dangerously dry lips, wincing slightly as he tried to force his beaten voice to work. While he had tried to ask what Slade wanted, he mostly came out as a serious of broken, high pitched noises.

"Ivy, do you have some sort of drug or something that can render his body completely limp?"

"Yes," Poison Ivy answered as she used her power to essentially paralyze Dick. "Is there anything else you need done?"

"No, I shouldn't think so," Psimon answered. He looked around until he glimpsed the bloody crowbar nearby. Pointing towards it, he spoke. "Get the Bats attention then give him that and leave. Let him figure out the rest."

Ivy nodded and picked up the crowbar as Psimon left. As soon as he was gone, Ivy walked over and knelt in front of Dick, brushing blood soaked ebony strands out of his face.

"I'm sorry," she said softly when she noted that his body was tense with pain. "I never knew they were going to take it this far. If I had...when Slade comes back, beg him for mercy."

Dick's lips parted to object, but Poison Ivy cut him off. "It will stop the pain, I promise. He'll stop hurting you. He wants you to be his apprentice, that's what all of this is for! Just do it, please! I'll tell Batman who has you, where you are. Just try and stay alive."

Knowing Dick had no reason to believe or trust her, Ivy placed a gentle kiss on Dick's forehead before using her powers to render him unconscious. Sighing softly, she got to her feet and left the room, sending one last sorrowful glance towards the twenty-five year old on the ground before leaving to head back towards Gotham City.

She had a Bat to attract.

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 **Hey! So it's a shit story and yeah, I know, I have others to update.**

 **Chill, okay? I'll get there, just hold your horses.**

 **Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

 **Watchtower**

 **11:39PM**

Batman very rarely found himself tired before four in the morning. Biting back a yawn, he cleared his throat to get the attention of The Justice League.

"If no one has anything more to add, this meeting can come to an end."

No one said anything and so Batman was about to stand until Superman cleared his throat and spoke.

"What about Nightwing?"

It took all of Batman's self control to not tense at the name. "What of him?"

Superman sighed and looked at Batman with nothing short of sorrow. "Bruce, he's been missing for seven years. Young Justice is starting to believe he's a traitor. Not to mention the fact that he's your son, surely you're worried about him."

If Batman had been a little more awake, he most likely would have berated the boy scout for his use of names. But if he was being honest, Bruce really was worried about Dick. True, his son had stormed off at the age of sixteen, but he'd had every right to and he'd come back after two years.

Seven years was pushing it, even for him.

"What do you suggest we do about it?" Batman asked calmly. "If Nightwing doesn't want us to find him, we won't."

"But what if something happened to him?" Superman pressed. He took a slow breath, knowing his next words were dangerous. "You know what happened to Jason. Do you really want to risk that the same thing happened to Dick?"

Batman didn't move or say a word. He had gone pale at the suggestion and was fighting to keep his composure.

"The Joker would never be able to resist the urge to taunt me if he had-"

"I never said the Joker might have killed him," Superman said quietly. "But think about it, who has the most to gain from taking Nightwing? Or killing him? Who has been watching him every step of the way?"

No one moved but everyone knew exactly who Superman was referring to. No one wanted to meet Batman's eye as he slowly looked around the room. If he was being honest - not that he would ever admit this - the thought that Slade Wilson had his son had never crossed his mind.

Abruptly standing, Batman made to leave the room. "I'm taking Robin with me to Bludhaven. We're going to see where Nightwing was last. We're going to find him."

Superman let out a slow breath of relief. He had expected Batman to berate him on his "stupidity" though he was thankful to see that the billionaire really did care about his son.

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 **Unknown location**

 **3:15AM**

Dick hurt and his chest barely moved. He barely breathed.

He was dying.

His eyes remained closed, chin to his chest, hair obscuring his face when he heard footsteps nearing his cell. They stopped outside the door but Dick's focus was on breathing.

He wasn't doing that very well. His body and mind ached and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He'd already lost so much blood it was truly a miracle he was still alive.

He was going to die.

He heard someone enter the room and he assumed it was Slade because they didn't speak. Slade never spoke when he entered, though he spoke as he beat Dick.

Dick felt a rough, calloused hand brushing his bangs away from his fevered face and he slowly peeled his eyes open and gazed up at Slade.

He wanted so badly to give in. Not to Slade, but to death.

Then again, what was the difference anymore?

"You're nearly dead," Slade stated in a monotone voice. "Do you know what that means?"

Dick coughed lightly, shuddering at the taste of blood in his mouth and on his lips. Knowing his voice no longer worked, Dick mouthed the word 'mercy'.

Slade chuckled and ran a hand through Dick's hair. "Not quite Dickie. Although perhaps it _is_ mercy. It just depends on how you look at it."

Dick closed his eyes and ducked his chin to his chest before going limp. He was so tired. For a brief moment, he felt hands on his wrists and a second later he was being pulled into Slade's arms bridal style.

Dick remained limp, too weak and tired to even try and fight back. This seemed to please Slade because he laughed quietly as he carried Dick out of the cell that the boy had been chained in for seven years.

Light assaulted Dick's closed eyelids and he whimpered softly though he no longer had enough strength to bury his face in Slade's chest. The mercenary shifted him slightly and Dick's head lolled against Slade's neck, the acrobat's closed eyes pressing into the side of Slade's neck.

"I'm sure you know the story of what happened to Jason," Slade said conversationally. The small part of Dick's mind that wasn't dead yet - but was slowly fading - wondered where he was being carried though if it meant death, he wasn't sure if he really cared.

Fleetingly, he wondered why Slade had mentioned Jason though the thought of his brother made Dick's head hurt.

He lost consciousness quickly.

Not ten seconds later, he died.

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 **Gotham City**

 **2:18AM**

Tim hadn't really expected to find any sign of Nightwing in Bludhaven but he still found himself fighting back tears as he and Batman drove through Gotham back to the Batcave.

"What is Kid Flash is right?" Tim asked in a whisper. If he spoke any louder, he was afraid his voice might break and he'd begin to cry. "What if Nightwing really did betray us?"

"He didn't, Robin," Batman lectured, though the thought had crossed his mind as well. "He wouldn't."

Robin nodded but didn't say anything else. Something still seemed off about the fact that Nightwing had just up and vanished for seven years. It just didn't seem right.

Seven years earlier, Bruce had refused to announce him as a missing person, mainly because Dick had talked about moving back to Romania in the hopes of finding some long lost family.

Of course, Bruce knew the boy had nothing left but he hadn't said anything. So when Dick left, he had just assumed Dick had finally gotten the courage to leave the country.

It would certainly explain his seven year absence.

But to walk out on his family and little brother's without so much as a goodbye? That wasn't like Dick.

"Didn't find anything?" Jason asked as Tim and Bruce walked into the batcave. Jason was seated at the batcomputer with his feet up on the desk, twirling a small card around in his hand.

"No," Tim answered dejectedly. "I'm starting to think-"

"Dick didn't betray us," Bruce said firmly before turning to his once dead son. "Superman suggested that Slade might have taken him."

"It would explain Dick's lack of communication," Jason mused quietly. "It would also explain why no one has seen or heard from Slade for awhile as well. It's possible."

"Father, I demand to know why Todd is still permitted here," Damien shouted as he stormed into the batcave, Alfred close behind him with an exasperated look on his face.

"Master Damien, you _must_ remain in bed," Alfred begged. "You've fractured your ankle, you mustn't walk on it."

Damien narrowed his eyes at the old butler and spat, "Watch me."

Sighing, Alfred shook his head and turned to Bruce. "Have you found anything, Master Bruce?"

"Nothing but a suggestion," Bruce answered. "A suggestion that we can't exactly follow up."

"I could," Jason mused, holding out the notecard in his hand. "Ra's Al Ghul is bringing someone back to life with the Lazarus Pit and I'm invited. It's weird, I know. But I could find out if Slade has Golden Boy because Slade is supposed to be at these things."

"Why would Grandfather invite _you_ and not me?" Damien demanded. Jason raised an eyebrow and spun around in the chair to face Damien.

"Have you ever been brought back to life? No. That's why."

Damien looked like he was going to punch Jason in the face and so Bruce took this as his chance to step between the two.

"It's too dangerous, Jason," he said firmly. "If you show up, Slade will know you're looking for Dick and chances are he'll do something rash."

"Thank you, father," Damien said. "If I can't go, Todd has no right to go."

Jason scoffed and got to his feet. It almost looked as though he was going to attack Damien, though he calmly bypassed the boy and made his way upstairs to the manor, Tim on his heels.

"We'll find Golden Boy, Replacement," Jason said quietly so that only Tim could hear him. "Trust me, I want him safe just as much as you do."

"You don't think he left willingly?" Tim asked in a whisper. Jason shook his head without glancing back at Tim.

"He would have contacted us. Or at least me or you. He'd never vanish like this without telling _someone_ first. I know it."

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Unknown location

 **7:23AM**

Dick watched Slade move around the room as he gathered the final pieces for Dick's new utility belt.

Dick blinked slowly. His head was pounding, vision swimming. He was tired and energetic at the same time. He felt like someone had given him sleeping pills and then proceeded to dump him in electrified ice water. His entire body was trembling with the cold that mercilessly wracked his body.

He had been brought back to life after being dead for two months. The idea still gave him nightmares. While he was perfectly fine now - save for perhaps his mind and sanity - Dick still couldn't speak. Not that Slade seemed too bothered, though he did have to continuously check over his shoulder to ensure Dick was still sitting where he'd been left.

"Your name is Renegade," Slade explained as he walked over and grabbed Dick's kevlar/metal covered arm and dragged him off the bed, forcing the still shivering twenty-five year old to stand. Slade continued to speak as he clasped Dick's utility belt around his waist. "You are my apprentice. Forget the name Richard Grayson. Forget Nightwing. Forget everything. That's not who you are anymore."

 _Is this what Jason went through when he came back?_ Dick wondered as he followed close behind Slade when the man beckoned for him to follow. _Was his mind as bad as mine is?_

"You train when I tell you to train," Slade declared as they walked into the gym/training room. "You stop when I tell you to. You eat and sleep when I tell you to. I dictate your life, from here and forever more. Do you understand?"

Dick swallowed thickly and nodded slowly. His headache seemed to be getting progressively worse, as were the chills that were slowly consuming his mind and body.

"Good boy," Slade said, lip twitching slightly. The two stared at one another, one challenging and one submissive until Slade reached into his own utility belt and pulled out a domino mask, handing it over to Dick in a silent order to put it on.

Dick held it in his hands, gazing down at it as fleeting memories flickered through his mind.

" _We'll laugh about this someday."_

" _Who was that?"_

" _A freshman. Ignore him."_

" _Wally, this is my brother Jason and my brother Tim."_

" _Cool! Nice to meet you guys!"_

" _So you go by Nightwing now?"_

" _Robin wasn't for me anymore."_

" _Why?"_

" _I grew up."_

Dick was yanked out of his thoughts by Slade taking the mask and putting it on the boy's face.

"The memories will stop with time," the mercenary whispered darkly. "And sooner or later you'll lose them all completely. That life of yours? Seven years ago? It's nothing. It never existed. It's all in your head, Renegade."

 _All in my head._ Renegade thought to himself. _So why does it feel so...real?_

Slade waited for Dick to make some outward reaction, though the boy remained still safe for the near convulsion like shivering of his malnourished form.

"I've decided your first round of training," Slade declared, gesturing for Dick to follow. "Sign language. Or do you know it already?"

Dick shook his head, following close behind and staring down at his hands.

 _Do I know it?_ He mused quietly. _I don't know_ what _I know anymore._

" _Mami! Tati!"_

" _And now, The Flying Grayson's!"_

" _My name is Bruce Wayne. This is Alfred."_

" _Why so serious, boy blunder?!"_

Dick gasped quietly, squeezing his eyes shut as horrifying images flashed through his mind's eye.

"Ignore them, Renegade," Slade growled when he noticed the falter in his apprentice's step. "They mean nothing. You've been in a coma for twenty-five years before dying. You're my son, I brought you back. These memories are a life you made for yourself after death. They're not real."

Dick nodded. He didn't know why, but he found himself believing the man before him.

The man whose name he couldn't remember. Taking a shuddering breath, Dick bit his lip and followed after the mercenary. His head was down, focused on the ground and so Dick missed the dark smile that spread across Slade's face.

His plan was falling into place and by the time The Justice League noticed, it would be too late.

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 **How was that? Good? Bad? I tried to write fast since I've got stuff I gotta do today.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **THANKS!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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 **Unknown location**

 **Four weeks later**

 **4:15PM**

Slade bit back a growl of frustration when Dick fumbled with the escrima sticks, dropping both to the ground. While Slade had known the boy would slowly be going through memory loss, he had at least held a small fraction of hope that the boy would remember how to fight.

Sighing, Slade walked over and was about to lecture Dick once more when he noticed that the boy was trembling violently. Frowning, Slade reached forward and peeled off Dick's mask, ignoring how the boy flinched slightly.

The look in the cerulean blue eyes said it all.

Dick was terrified.

 _I'm sorry._ His hands shook and moved rapidly as he signed the words and Slade was barely able to make them out. Still, knowing that Dick was terrified of punishment showed Slade that he truly had all the power he wanted.

In fact, he was starting to truly see Dick as his son.

"It's fine," Slade said quietly as he bent down and picked up the escrima sticks, handing them back to Dick. "We can stop. It's been about five hours anyway. Did you eat breakfast?"

Dick shook his head and followed Slade out of the gym and down the hall to their shared bedroom.

"I didn't think so," Slade mused quietly. He glanced back at Dick, frowning when he noted the dark circles under the boy's eyes and the unnatural white pallor of Dick's skin.

 _He hasn't been sleeping either._

"Come on," Slade said as they walked into the bedroom. He quickly made his way over to the closet and tossed Dick a loose black t-shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants. "Take off your belt and put it on the bedside table then put the clothes over top of your uniform and stick your hand gun in the waistband of your pants."

Dick frowned but he had learned the hard way not to disobey or question so he quickly and quietly did as he was told. Once he was dressed, he stood silently in the middle of the room as he waited for Slade - the man got dressed in the bathroom - to finish and give him his next instruction.

 _Where are we going?_ Dick sighed as he followed Slade down the hall when the man had gestured him to.

"Gotham," Slade answered. "You're too pale. You need sunlight."

 _Gotham._ Dick thought as he climbed in the passenger seat of Slade's car. _Why does that sound familiar?_

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Gotham City

5:00PM

"We can Stop," Slade said quietly when he noted how Dick wasn't very steady on his feet. Though the two of them were dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, they both remained on the roofs of Gotham where they were less likely to be seen.

Dick nodded his thanks and his legs promptly gave out beneath him as he gasped quietly for air. Frowning, Slade walked over and crouched in front of his apprentice to place the back of his hand against Dick's forehead.

"Fever," he mused quietly. "How long have you been feeling bad?"

Dick didn't bother to answer. His chest was tight and images of blood and pain were flashing through his mind.

 _He's lying!_ Dick's mind screamed. _You are Dick Grayson. Nightwing. You are_ not _a killer. You are_ not _Renegade. He's using you!_

Dick's body began to tremble as his less than stable mindset fought to cope with his death and resurrection.

In a rage, he threw himself at Slade, hands aiming for the man's throat. Caught off guard, Slade had no time to defend himself as they both fell off to the side. Slade growled, grabbing Dick's throat and squeezing tightly. But the boy remembered everything and so he easily managed to hit Slade where it hurt most and roll away.

Both men lay still, gasping shallowly for air. Unfortunately - or fortunately as Slade saw it - the mercenary recovered first and stalked over to Dick, kicking the boy in the chest hard enough to crack and even break some ribs as well as drive whatever minimal air was in Dick's lungs.

"You just won't stay down, will you?" Slade growled. He tried to kick Dick's chest again but the boy was more or less ready for it this time, because he grabbed Slade's foot and twisted until he heard the sound of the mercenary's ankle breaking.

Slade grit his teeth, stumbling away as Dick slowly to his feet, hand on his chest. Both men were aching and bent over, glaring and waiting for the other to make the first move.

It was then that Slade remembered that they both and a gun. And only one of them was not afraid to use it. Smirking, Slade straightened up and calmly pulled out his gun, aiming the barrel of it at Dick's head.

"You can fight back," Slade said calmly, removing the safety as he spoke. "You can end this all. All you have to do is take your gun and pull the trigger."

Dick shook his head. His throat burned with the idea of speaking and so he knew that trying to speak was a lost cause. Still, although he refused to kill, the feeling of a gun against his back was tempting.

He was tempted to end the man in front of him. Kill the man who had killed him. Dick's fingers twitched, making it very obvious to Slade what the boy wanted to do.

"Are you scared?" Slade asked quietly. "Don't be. The first time is the hardest, I'll grant you that. But after that it becomes second nature. You'll get used to it, Richard. You'll even learn to _love_ the feeling of the recoil. You'll learn to love the power.'

Dick shook his head again despite the fact that he could feel temptation gnawing away at him. Though he'd never told Bruce, Jason had once helped him learn how to fire a gun. It was a few months - a year at most - after Jason had died. The younger boy had dragged Dick to the shooting range to teach him how to use the gun.

Dick had hated to admit that he liked the feeling. After that, he and Jason would sneak off to the shooting range whenever Bruce wasn't looking.

Dick felt sick as he realized that he really could end the man in front of him. He was good enough of a shot. True, it wouldn't be a perfect hit but it would still kill Slade.

It would end him for good.

But Dick had long ago decided that if he were to ever break Bruce's rule of don't kill, his victim would be Tony Zucco.

It's who he was saving the shot for. Forcing himself to straighten up and not wince at the pain in his chest, Dick firmly shook his head.

And made a very fatal error. He took the gun out and laid it on the roof at his feet, kicking it towards Slade before turning his back on the mercenary.

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Dick's eyes flew open and he gasped loudly as his mind struggled to cope with the fact where he was and what the hell had just happened.

Suddenly, there were hands on his arms and Dick began to panic as he fought against them. He wasn't thinking rationally, he was well aware of that.

His lips were parted and he couldn't breath as whoever was above him tightened their grip on his arms to an almost painful level. He mewled softly, closing his eyes and going boneless as he tried to prevent tears from coming.

He was so hot and tired and scared and he couldn't breath.

"Renegade, look at me."

Dick knew better than to disobey and so forced his tired eyes to meet the oddly soft ones of his mentor.

Slade sighed and helped Dick to his feet, leading the boy out of the training. "You dropped your escrima sticks and passed out as soon as I said we could stop. You were only unconscious for about fifteen or so seconds. Aside from the fever, you're fine."

Dick lifted his hands - shaking as they were - to say something, but he faltered. He didn't want to be punished and yet he didn't want to deal with everything he had seen, felt, and thought in the dream.

Was it a dream?

Slade must have known what his apprentice was thinking, because he turned around and stopped Dick, hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Whatever you saw, Renegade, is _not_ real. It was a fever dream. Ignore it, forget about it. Understand me?"

Dick didn't immediately answer and so Slade shook his violently. "Understand me!?" The mercenary shouted, well aware that striking fear into Dick was what usually got the boy to answer.

Dick's breathing hitched but he nodded, thankful that his mask hid the tears that he knew were filling his eyes. Slade sighed and removed both of their masks, cupping Dick's cheeks and wiping away the tears with his thumbs as they fell.

"You're fine," he whispered, turning and continuing to lead Dick back to the bedroom. "My perfect little apprentice."

" _We're not sidekicks, we're partners."_

Dick shuddered and closed his eyes.

" _My perfect little apprentice."_

" _I'm_ not _your apprentice, Slade."_

" _No. But you will be."_

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 **So I know the one part might've been a little confusing. Real sorrs about that. (Sorry? Sorrs? Never gonna say sorrs again)**

 **Anyway, aside from the weird, confusion dream thingy, how did you like it?**

 **PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT! THANKS!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

 **Disclaimer: i own nothing**

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It was half past one in the morning but Dick couldn't sleep. He had tossed and turned for hours before finally giving up and going to go sit in the gym.

He wasn't planning on doing anything. Just sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.

His mind hurt and he felt like there was something important he was forgetting.

Whatever it was, he knew it had to do with why he couldn't speak and why he felt nauseous at the idea of shooting a gun.

Of killing someone.

With a shaking breath, Dick got to his feet and went to his room to change. He was going out despite the late hour and he had no intention of telling Slade.

One of the man's many rules was that Dick couldn't leave the building without his permission.

The idea of disobeying the man seemed...familiar somehow and so before Dick knew it, he found himself wandering the streets of Gotham City.

Another place that felt far too familiar.

He sighed quietly and stepped into an alley to catch his breath. He was tired and sore on account of the small fever he still had. If he was being honest, he was starting to regret leaving on his own.

Still, he was starting to become...unnerved by Slade. The man was starting to scare him. In fact, he was starting to have nightmares about the man torturing him. Beating him.

Something told Dick that they were more than nightmares, but he refused to look into it. Slade had promised that they were just dreams. Nothing more.

But did he really trust Slade?

No. No, he didn't.

Cracking his neck and shoving his hands in his pockets, Dick leaned against the alley wall and closed his eyes.

He was so tempted to just sit on the ground and-

"Well, well, well. Look at pretty boy here."

Dick's eyes flashed open and he scanned the alley quickly, eyes falling on three overweight man as they sauntered towards him.

 _Not good._ Dick thought, pushing off the wall and pulling his hands out of his pockets to hold in front of him. _So not good. I can't fight more than one person. Hell, I can't even come close to taking Slade in hand to hand combat._

"Looks like you're scaring him, Franks," the man on the right of the middle one sneered. "We should give him our warmest welcome. Formally introduce him to Gotham City."

Dick shook his head and backed away-

-Right into the waiting arms of a fourth man. Instantly, there was an arm around his throat and another around his waist. He began to panic at the other three men approached and began looking his thin form over.

"There's no way he's from Gotham," Franks mused, crossing his arms over his chest and analyzing Dick as the twenty-five year old struggled to get away. "He's far too pretty."

Dick whimpered, but Franks was quick to shove a rag between his lips and cover his mouth with duct tape.

"Not a sound," Franks snarled as he easily restrained Dick's small wrists behind his back as well as lashing his ankles together. "Wouldn't want Bats to hear us, would you?"

" _You're Batman!?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Woah...wait...if you're Batman, does that mean-"_

" _I promise you, Richard, I will find the man who killed your parents."_

" _And you'll make him pay? You'll kill him?"_

" _I don't kill."_

Dick shuddered violently as he was dragged through the alley to a waiting van.

"Franks," the man holding Dick said. Dick choked on the rag. The man's breath smelled of cigarettes and alcohol and it made Dick's empty stomach roll dangerously. "Why don't we just take his money then kill him? What's the point of keeping him?"

Franks sighed and opened his mouth to respond but a shadow jumping at him sent him to the ground.

Almost instantly, it became every man for himself and the man holding Dick tossed the acrobat to the ground and made a mad dash for it.

Dick's head collided with the pavement and he moaned quietly as stars flashed across his vision. He felt dizzy, sick, and lightheaded and so closed his eyes as he breathed heavily through his nose.

Vaguely, he heard what sounded like someone being attacked - grunts and cries of pain followed one after another - but Dick could feel warmth along the side of his face and that was all he could focus on.

When he felt hands on his shoulders, pulling him into a small, warm chest, Dick shuddered and tried to squirm away. But he was tired and his head hurt and he wasn't strong enough to push the person away.

"It's alright," a far too familiar voice said. "You're safe. Don't move, let me get your wrists and ankles."

Dick had learned the hard way from Slade to do as he was told if he didn't want pain, so he went still and allowed the person - boy by the sound of his voice - to free his hands and feet.

"I'm going to remove the tape, alright?" the boy asked quietly. "It might hurt."

Dick squeezed his eyes closed tight and fought against a wince as the tape was removed. As soon as he was gone, he yanked the rag out of his mouth and rolled onto his stomach to dry heave on the pavement.

"Batman, I think he might have a concussion."

Dick moaned and tried to fight against the hands that were pulling him upwards, but he was too tired and weak.

"Can you open your eyes?"

DIck could, he knew that. But he didn't want to. Still, he didn't want to be hurt, so he did as he was told, wincing at the bright light that was shined into his eyes.

"No concussion," a gruff voice said as arms pulled Dick against a broad chest bridal style. "But he'll most likely lose consciousness soon."

Dick did.

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 **Sorry that chapter was kinda short but I wasn't sure what exactly sure happen. No worries though.**

 **Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **AND FOR ANY WHO LIKE SEEING DICK AT SLADE'S APPRENTICE, DON'T WORRY. HE'S NOT GOING BACK TO BATMAN QUITE YET.**

 **ALSO, I'm so sorry, I forgot to turn off caps lock. Haha**

 **XD**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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When Dick regained consciousness some time later, he found a young boy sitting less than a foot away from him. Even though the boy seemed safe and familiar, Dick overreacted and bolted from the bed he lay in, shoving the boy to the ground and attempting to run.

Key word; attempting.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back and he tried to scream, though it came out as a strangled whimper.

He was mute. Right.

"Dickie, calm down."

The name made Dick freeze for all of a second, before he jerked his elbow backwards and heard the person grunt in pain. But they didn't release him.

He was panicking, that much he knew, but he was scared.

He kicked his legs out as the man continued to try and calm him down. But Dick was still weak from the hit his head had taken to the pavement and so he weakened very quickly.

Shuddering in fear, Dick closed his eyes tightly and went limp. The man didn't release him for a moment before carefully setting him on the edge of the bed.

"Dick, open your eyes."

Dick shuddered but did as he was told. He wasn't sure why, but the name sounded comforting. Familiar. Much safer than 'Renegade' which was what Slade called him at all times.

"Bruce, he looks really bad."

Dick flinched and looked around to find the young boy moving carefully towards him.

"Dick, it's okay," the man called Bruce said quietly, though he thankfully kept his distance. "You're safe now. Do you know who I am?"

" _Do you know who I am?"_

" _No."_

" _I'm Bruce Wayne."_

" _Mr. Wayne, I was born in Romania and grew up in Haley's Circus. I don't recognize your name. I'm sorry."_

Dick swallowed thickly but wasn't sure whether he knew the man or not. Did he?

" _Mr. Wayne-"_

" _Richard, You can call me Bruce you know. You don't need to be so formal."_

" _Then in that case, you can call me Dick."_

Dick put his head in his hands and whimpered quietly, curling in on himself as a headache began. He always got them with the memories - or as Slade called them, 'dreams'.

"Dick, you're safe," the man - Bruce - whispered. "But I need you to tell me what happened. Where have you been?"

"Bruce, he looks really sick," the young boy whispered. "He doesn't look good."

" _Hey, it's alright," Dick said lightly, trying to coax the boy from under his bed. "It's just a thunderstorm."_

 _The boy opened his mouth to answer but with a crack of thunder, bolted into Dick's waiting arms. Dick chuckled and held his new brother close._

" _You're alright. What's your name? Bruce never told me."_

" _Timothy," the boy whispered, body shaking as he clung to Dick. "But you can call me Tim."_

 _Dick smiled, easily picking the boy up despite only being thirteen years old. He grabbed a throw blanket and wrapped it around Tim's shoulders after placing Tim on the edge of the bed._

" _Well I'm Richard, but you can call me Dick."_

 _Tim frowned up at Dick. "How do you get Dick from Richard?"_

 _Dick let out a quiet version of his signature cackle. "You ask nicely."_

 _Clearly the joke went over Tim's head, but give it time and that's how the boy would start introducing Dick._

Dick stared at the young boy he now knew as Tim. He opened and closed his mouth for a long time before shaking his head and wrapping his arms around himself.

"I know, Tim," Bruce said quietly. "Dick, can you speak? Can you tell me what happened?"

Dick shook his head, hands trembling as he signed ' _Where am I? Why did you take me?'_

Bruce seemed to falter at the sign and his expression dropped for a moment. "Dick, you're in your room in the manor. You're safe. But I need to know if you can talk."

Dick shook his head before wondering why he was doing what this man asked. Why the hell did he feel safer with this man than with Slade?

Bruce sighed and started to get to his feet until a voice came from the doorway.

"He's been through the Lazarus Pit. I can tell."

"What does that mean?" Tim asked.

The figure in the doorway scoffed quietly. "It means he died, _replacement."_

" _Bruce, where's Jason?" fifteen year old Dick demanded when the batmobile pulled into the batcave and Bruce climbed out slowly._

 _When Bruce didn't answer - walking quietly over to the passenger side and ignoring Dick - the young acrobat began to panic._

" _Where's my brother?!" he shouted. He felt Tim cower back, but all he cared about was Jason. When Bruce pulled the beaten, bloody body of Jason Todd out of the passenger seat, Dick screamed._

" _No!" He shouted, running forward and pulling his brother's body from Bruce's arms, collapsing to the ground and sobbing loudly. "No!"_

Dick jerked backwards, eyes wide and breathing erratic. The figure in the doorway stepped forward and exactly matched the figure Dick had just seen.

 _What the hell is happening to me?_ Dick wondered as he squeezed his eyes closed and tried to focus on calming himself down. _I just want to go home._

Though these people were frighteningly familiar, Dick was too scared. The only person he had known - had interacted with - in months had been Slade and now that he was faced with new people and new 'dreams' he was starting to panic.

"Everyone out!" the man in the doorway - Jason - demanded. "Let me talk to him alone."

"Jason-" Bruce began, though Jason ignored him.

"I went through the Lazarus Pit too, _Bruce_ ," Jason spat. "I know what he's struggling with. Let me help him. Get out."

Tim and Bruce shared glances before slowly getting to their feet and walking out of the room. As soon as they were gone, Jason dropped cross legged on the floor and stared up into Dick's wide blue eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said calmly. "I'm sure you want to go home though. Is that right?"

" _I just want to go home," Dick whispered. He closed his eyes tightly and buried his face in Bruce's shirt. "I'm sorry."_

 _Bruce sighed and rubbed the eight year old's back. "It's alright, Dick. But you know...the manor is your home now too. It will always be your home, no matter what."_

" _Promise?"_

" _I promise."_

Dick sucked in a breath, dropping his hands to his lap and nodding slowly. His head hurt and he felt exhausted. He just wanted to sleep but he didn't trust these people enough.

"Dick," Jason began before shaking his head. "I'm sorry. That's not your name, is it? What is your name?"

Dick raised his hands to sign the name 'Renegade', though he froze. After a few minutes, he pressed on and signed the name anyway.

"Renegade," Jason repeated out loud. "You're Slade Wilson's apprentice, aren't you?"

Dick nodded, thankful that this person seemed to know. Although he still didn't trust him, he trusted Jason more than he trusted Bruce or Tim.

The thought hurt though he wasn't really sure why.

"Well then, Renegade," Jason said, getting to his feet. "I suppose we should be getting you home, shouldn't we?"

Dick nodded slowly and stood as well. The two males looked each other in the eye until Jason moved forward and grabbed Dick's shoulders in a vice like grip.

"You listen here, Richard Grayson," he hissed. "These thoughts you're having? They're memories. They're not dreams or whatever the _hell_ Wilson is telling you. You're name is Richard John Grayson. Tim and I are your brothers and Bruce is your - kind of shit - father. You are... _were_ , Nightwing. First Protege, first _Robin_ of Batman. You were an acrobat - a trapeze artist - in Haley's Circus until you watched your family fall to their deaths with you were eight years old."

Dick whimpered and tried to pull away, but Jason's hands on his shoulders prevented that. Dick was starting to get scared, bt at the same time, everything Jason was saying felt familiar.

Jason loosened his grip slightly but went on. "I don't know what the hell happened or how the hell you died, but you did. Something - or more likely some _one_ \- killed you and stuck you in the Lazarus Pit to bring you back to life. Slade Wilson is not on your side, Dick. Your name is _not_ Renegade. Slade is your enemy. Do not forget that."

With that said, Jason let go and turned back to the door. "Come on. I'll take you back."

Dick followed on shaking legs, mind reeling with everything he'd been told.

 _Slade sad they were just dreams._ Dick thought, closing his eyes when the sound of metal on flesh echoed through his mind. _But what if he's been lying all this time? What is Jason was right? What if...what if Slade killed me?_

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 **Kind of a shit chapter. I'm sorry.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.**

 **PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **THANKS!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six?**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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When Jason pulled up outside of where Slade was staying, Dick fund himself frozen in the car.

"Need me to walk you up to the door?" Jason asked sarcastically. Dick kept his eyes locked on the building as he lifted his shaking hands.

 _I don't want to._ He signed. His lips quivered and he felt tears prick his eyes. _I don't want to go back. I...I'm scared._

"Okay," Jason said quietly, pulling out of the parking lot and making his way back to the road. "We won't. Do you…want to come back to my apartment with me?"

Dick nodded vigorously, wiping away the tears as they fell. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly so scared of Slade, but he had quickly decided that...Jason felt safe.

He felt like home.

The ride was silent and by the time they made it to a rundown apartment building, it ea pouring rain.

"Want to wait here?" Jason asked after parking the car. "Or do you want to brave the rain?"

 _Brave the rain._ Dick signed. Neither male looked at one another before getting out of the car and heading towards the building. As soon as they were safely locked in Jason's apartment, Dick signed ' _Why do I feel safer with you than Slade?'_

Jason sighed quietly and ran a hand through his soaked black hair before moving forward and wrapping his arms around Dick in a gentle embrace.

"I don't know what you remember," he said quietly. "But that man is your enemy."

Dick nodded and leaned into the hug, closing his eyes and burying his face in Jason's neck.

" _You're Jason, right?"_

" _Got a problem with it?"_

 _Dick chuckled softly. "No. I was just asking an innocent question."_

 _Jason growled. "Dick."_

" _Yes," Dick answered, smile growing wider. "I am Dick. I see Bruce told you my name already."_

 _Jason stared at the kid. "What the hell!? I was insulting you! I was calling you a dick!"_

" _Language, Master Jason," Alfred chastised as he walked through the room._

Dick shuddered and tightened his grip on Jason as tears filled his eyes. He knew him. He knew Jason. He just...didn't know how.

"It's going to take awhile for all of your memories to come back," Jason said quietly, never once releasing his hold on his older brother. "But if you accept them as memories and if you don't try to fight them, they'll come back sooner."

Dick nodded and refused to release Jason when the boy tried to pull away. Sighing quietly, Jason remained in the embrace until he recalled that the both of them were soaked.

"Come on," he prompted, extracting himself from Dick. "Let's go get dried off, alright? The longer we stay here, the more likely we are to freeze to death."

Dick obviously didn't want to release Jason, but he did as he was told and followed the younger boy down the hall towards the bedroom.

As Jason was looking for clothes for the both of them, Dick walked over to the bedside table where he picked up a red helmet.

" _Who are you?"_

" _The name is Red Hood," the figure sneered._

 _Dick - or Robin at the moment - frowned slightly. "I know you. Don't I?"_

" _Of course not,"Red Hood said quickly. Robin shook his head, eyes going wide under the mask as he took a step forward despite Batman's growled warning._

" _Jason?" he whispered._

Dick closed his eyes tightly and briefly shook his head, turning around to find Jason stripping down in the middle of the room.

"I'm going to take a shower," the younger boy said, not bothering to look over his shoulder. "The clothes on the bed are for you to wear. They might be a little baggy, but they're warm so that should count for something. There's a towel there too. Please dry off and get dressed. I don't want Bruce berating me for letting you freeze to death."

Dick nodded wordlessly, walking over to the towel and beginning to dry himself off as Jason left the room towards the bathroom.

Once he was dressed and dried, Dick sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. The place seemed and felt familiar...being honest, he thought it _smelled_ familiar too.

Still, he couldn't quite place it.

" _Golden boy?" Jason asked, frowning when he opened his apartment door to find Dick standing there. It was two in the morning and Bludhaven was facing its worst storm in years._

 _Dick was shaking with cold and stifled sobs as he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Jason's waist._

 _Dick may had been seventeen at the time, but that didn't particularly matter to him._

" _What happened?" Jason asked, dragging his older brother into the apartment and down the hall towards his bedroom._

" _Bruce and I fought," Dick said quietly, letting Jason remove both of their soaked clothing. "He...he benched me."_

" _He's done it before, hasn't he?" Jason asked as he grabbed a towel that was lying on the floor. He sniffed it quickly to ensure it was_ somewhat _clean before handing it over to Dick._

" _It's permanent, Jason," Dick said quietly. "He benched me forever."'_

Dick took a shuddering breath as he set the towel down and slowly began to get dressed. He trusted Jason. More than Slade, more than whoever Bruce and Tim were.

He trusted Jason more than he trusted himself.

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 **That was a crappy chapter, I'm sorry.**

 **Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **AND MAYBE DICK WILL START TO REMEMBER THE TORTURE SLADE PUT HIM THROUGH!**

 **WE'LL SEE!**

 **ENJOY, THANKS, AND PLEASE REVIEW!**


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